


Reasons

by TaecupKooki3



Series: Rewrite [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, How Do I Tag, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Loki (Marvel), Pain, Tags Are Hard, There's A Tag For That, Torture, and "because he missed", but it gets better, but relationship is there for a reason, i think, it happens a lot, overuse of the word because, thanos is no mentioned here, this may hurt a bit, you'll want to kill somebody after reading this same words over and over again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 22:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaecupKooki3/pseuds/TaecupKooki3
Summary: Through the torture at the hands of Thanos and his followers, Loki found the many reasons why he should keep on living. Reasons he should have remembered before he let go.





	Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> A small tiny little glimpse at what Loki suffered at tha hands of Thanos, kind of a prequel of something I'm trying. No real interaction between Thanos and Loki in this fic but there will be. It's not even mentioned here but it's got a lot to do.
> 
> It will be better explained on the next fic.  
> Enjoy, thank you.
> 
> Ps.: unbeta-ed.

He was floating, silent, breathless.

He could hear himself breathing, couldn’t feel it. 

Couldn’t smell, there was no smell where he was, wherever that would be. Though he did feel his nose freeze, cold creeping over his skin. He wasn’t naked, thankfully. He could feel the heavy leather clinging to his legs, the boots weighty on his feet, the flimsy dark undershirt he would usually wear beneath his armour moving lightly with the soft breeze around him.

Wasn’t windy. More like the blow of cold weakened breath. It moved around him, moved his hair. He could feel it agitated, but slow, as if in a trance.

He couldn’t feel his limbs though.

Until he did.

Something hot and sharp pressed into his leg, and another, and on his arm, and the other. He couldn’t hear himself scream, although he was certain he had. They burned, like the sharpest of needles, and seemed to never end, ever moving inside. He felt one going completely through his thigh, the heat boiling that specific point on his leg only accentuated by the freezing cold still hugging the places where it did not touch.

The contrast had him squirming, he felt himself struggling to get away, trashing, moving desperate, but he didn’t. He wasn’t moving at all.

Suddenly, something hit him on his back, knocked the breath out of his lungs and he could feel himself breathing again. Heavy and hot against the cold enveloping him. His throat burned with each breath, sore and unused. He couldn’t remember his voice.

He didn’t even know if he was thinking.

He couldn’t hear it.

It should probably feel relaxing. 

“ _Yield_.” A dark raspy voice said, and suddenly he remembered.

He could think, he could hear himself. And he said “ _no_ ”.

Ebony, he remembered. Ebony Maw.

He had seen him before, many times, and since the first moment they met he dreaded the day they would be left alone. 

Time stretched differently wherever he was. The days were long, too long. He couldn’t count, and rarely would he be allowed a window. 

He changed rooms often. He had no idea why.

“ _Why do you stand_?” The voice asked. “ _Why do you fight_?” 

Fight? It wasn’t like he was trying to fight.

He had no reason to yield. He had lost all that mattered. 

But he did have reasons to keep on living.

And to live he would, but as himself and not the toy they wanted him to be.  
He needn’t be a toy. He would die, over and again, before he would allow thinly straps of thread to pull his limbs, to bring thoughts not of his together. He would die again before he would let another touch him one more time. 

He had a mind of his own.

“ _You have nothing to fight for, sorcerer._ ”

Untrue.

“ _No love to hold you up on the cord_.”

He had love.

It took him years of these encounters, not with him alone. 

That was the first time.

It took him so long to piece out reasons why he should live.

When he fell, he had thought of none.

And he kept falling thinking of none. There was no reason, and he welcomed death with open arms.

“ _No one would smile at your survival_.”

Maybe. 

“ _You are nothing_.” Maw kept saying. He sounded angry. “ _You are made of words, of lies and_ void.”

Not of ice or gold.

Not a frost giant, or an Asgardian.

He was Loki. It took him so long.

Day by day, months stretched, and one at a time, reasons why not. Why he shouldn’t die.

Because his mother still loved him. It took him too long to understand it, but he knew she did.

Because he had friends. So very few were they, but they existed. And he missed them so very much. 

Because he had a girlfriend, a future wife. Someone in his life he loved very much. 

Because he had children. Beautiful, all of them, and they loved him very much, just as he loved them. 

“ _No one awaits you. No one cares_.” Untrue. “ _No one searches for you as you sacrifice yourself. No one knows, will ever know of your useless bravery_.” Maybe. “ _You will save no one, or maybe you will save them all. No one will care_.”

It took him longer, but he found more reasons.

“ _Yield_.”  
“ _No_.”

More reasons why he should keep standing, fighting, living.

Because he still had books to read, to learn. He missed laying quiet in the library, books around him everywhere. He missed the golden sun shining through the window. He missed peace.

Because he missed the days he would spend in Vanaheim, with his future wife, with his children. He missed holding her, her holding him. He missed her eyes, her hair, her smile, her voice. Her dance, so ungraceful for a princess. Her furrowed brows while focused. Her childish pout. Her ever lasting freckles, splattered across all her sun kissed skin. Her hugs, too tight, so comfortable. Her food, average for the most kind, but the most delicious he’s ever tasted. Her sparring, so powerful, strong, fast, _invincible_. 

“ _Yield_.”  
“ _No_.”

Because he missed playing with his children, uncursed as he made sure.

This universe was different. Hela, queen of Hel was not his daughter. The prophecy would end differently. They were safe.

He had read the giant serpent would be his son, just as Fenris, the wolf. They were not, but that is a different story.

Narvi and Vali loved his butterflies. They loved playing with him.

Narvi was terrible at hide and seek. But he defeated all on water fights.

Vali loved books as much as he did. He did need some help in the sparring arena, though he was fast. He faster than him. 

Both had talent when it came to pranks.

He remembered the first prank they pulled, it was on their mother.

She was pissed for a whole two seconds, until she joined in.

“ _You would rather die?_ ”

“ _Nothing new to me_.”

Because he missed the baths in the lagoons deep within the forests. Few ever ventured so far. He missed the beauty, the tranquillity of them. 

Because he missed a good night of sleep. He hasn’t had one in so long.

Because he missed the light feeling on his head, the comfortable, natural thumping of his chest. He felt so heavy.

Because he missed being clean, healthy. He missed feeling good.

Because he missed feeling happy, feeling a smile come naturally, genuinely to his face. He missed the light lifting of his brows, he missed the joyous laughter bubbling inside of him. He missed happiness.

Maw didn’t speak again.

He didn’t care.

He would stand, unmoving. 

And he would leave that place alive. 

And he would fight until he was free.

Because he missed _freedom_.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are very much appreciated, I still can't really work with this site but it's getting better.  
> Any idea what's going on? Got any theories? I'd love to hear/read what you have to say/write.  
> Thank you for Reading.


End file.
